Some Kind of Love
by Sunfreak
Summary: Miyako is late for her own wedding, Ken's playing cat's cradle at the altar, and Daisuke's timing is as awful as ever. Ménage à trois with shounen ai.


A/N: *apprehensive* Oh dear, it's another one of those danged hetfics. God, why? -_-;; *twitches* It was even inspired by the opening scene of "Runaway Bride." Cousin Anie is going to kill me for this one. But even I can't write Daiken forever, dammit, so here it is: a Kenyako fic. Sorta. Theoretically?  
  
O_o I think I'm still suffering from the aftereffects of yesterday's psychotic Pocky binge.  
  
*sweatdrops as sounds of sobbing come from bed* Cousin Anie is now in tears. I think she may be something of a heterophobe. I don't wanna split up Ken and Dai either! ;_; But she's trying to convince me to make my would-be romantic fluff into a Dai angsting after Ken fic now, and I don't want that either! I want happy het!  
  
. . . oh my GOD, I can't believe I just said that. *spastic twitch*  
  
Anyway . . . warnings are: fluff, Kenyako, Daiken, and Miyasuke. Wai, it's evolved into a threesome! -^__^- . . . okay, so much for writing straight het. Er, no pun intended.  
"Some Kind of Love"  
Picture this: a girl in a full-skirted wedding dress straddles a horse, a young man in an ill-fitting tuxedo hanging on for dear life behind her. The horse is a gray Arabian, with a narrow face and draped in the heavy white satin of the girl's skirt. Her veil flies behind her as the horse's hooves pound across the pavement, and people leap aside, staring after in shock as the trio gallops past.  
  
Her name is Inoue Miyako. Today is her wedding day.  
  
His name is Motomiya Daisuke. He is her fiancé's best man.  
  
They are not secretly in love (everyone knows). They are not running away to elope together (Miyako is too much of a romantic). They are not having any sort of affair (Daisuke defines it as a series of brief trysts).  
  
They are, however, very, very late.  
  
This is not unexpected, considering their respective personalities, but it remains a problem. Indeed, if they become any later than they currently are, one Ichijouji Ken will be left at the altar- which is a very unpleasant experience for anyone, especially young men with rather unreliable self-esteem.  
  
Inconveniently, both lack any items of monetary value, save Miss Inoue's pearls, which are her grandmother's and not to be traded for a taxicab ride, and the limousine that was intended to fetch them from the Inoue residence has been stuck in a traffic jam so gnarled that it ought to be peanut butter for the past three hours.  
  
So Daisuke, whom even at the best of times operates on a very strange sense of honor, decides that, although it is dishonorable for Miss Inoue to have to hitchhike on her wedding day, it would be perfectly alright for them to steal a horse from the park, where those odd men patrol on horseback looking for muggers and suchlike.  
  
Once upon a time, Daisuke was in love with Ken. But this is a secret, and one that only Daisuke and Miyako and Ken know. Daisuke, because it is after all, HIS secret- and Miyako and Ken, because he thought that they should know, even though it made them sad to know they were hurting him. Yes, Daisuke has a strange sense of honor, but it is there nonetheless. And he thinks that the ties of the heart are very important, and that someone should always know about them.  
  
Because if no one ever knew, that would be like it had never happened at all.  
  
And that would be so much sadder.  
  
Daisuke is Ken's best man, because he is Ken's best friend. Ken was afraid to ask him to do this, but there was truly no one else he could have been able to bear asking over Daisuke. And Ken does love Daisuke, and maybe once he would've been with him. But their timing was poor- when Ken desired Daisuke, he was still in love with Hikari Yagami, the light. And when Daisuke desired him, Ken was in love with Miyako.  
  
So they are a could've-been couple, and as sad as it is to know that they are also a never-will-be . . . they are still beautiful to each other. And Miyako doesn't mind if Ken occasionally lets his eyes linger on Daisuke, because they are an ARE. They exist, and have something precious.  
  
But they all do. She knows this, because it is seen in the way Daisuke lets his hands linger at Ken's lapels when he does the other's tie for him . . . in the way his hands linger on hers when he hands her things.  
  
Daisuke loves Ken. He always has.  
  
Daisuke also loves Miyako. And somehow in this tangle, they all seem to love each other.  
  
And love of any kind should never be forgotten.  
  
So Miyako kicks her heels into the horse's belly and laughs, and Daisuke yelps as he nearly falls off- but doesn't.  
  
Because if he fell, it'd be like losing him; and Miyako would never, never lose Daisuke.  
  
Love is a strange thing. It's not limited, and doesn't come with restrictions or rules like most emotions. It's difficult to understand and sneaky, creeping up inch by inch. Most people think it generally sucks- until they experience it. Then it's the greatest thing on earth . . . until they LOSE it.  
  
It's a vicious cycle, no da.  
  
But right now, Ken and Miyako sit on the high part of the wheel, while Daisuke gently rocks the bottom back and forth, waiting. Because he is patient and doesn't mind waiting to be happy in love: because he is happy in other ways.  
  
So he waits, and Miyako smacks the horse's side with her palm, shouting for it to go faster. And inside the church, Ken sits on the steps playing cat's cradle with Iori as the other five groomsmen and two bridesmaids and the maid of honor Hikari all share knowing looks. Their numbers are unbalanced, but they don't care. The guests shift restlessly in their seats. Some have already left. But at the front of the church, these ten young men and women sit waiting, and will continue to do so.  
  
Because they know Miyako, and they know Daisuke, and they know that it would take a hell of a lot more than this world has to keep them from this place on this day.  
  
So they sit, and they wait, and Daisuke and Miyako try to convince the nice police officer that their horse is not subject to the traffic laws. He is not persuaded.  
  
In the end, Daisuke decides to take the easier path, kicks the horse, and yells "Giddy-up!" The horse does so, and satin and lace fly out behind them, wrapping around tuxedo-black and muffling Daisuke's laughter. The nice policeman decides to seriously consider taking over his father's business as he watches them canter off into the sunset.  
  
Miyako flashes Daisuke a grin over her shoulder, and he grins back.  
  
"This," she says in amusement, "is why I love you, Daisuke."  
  
"Eh, it was nothing," he replies dismissively, though he is clearly pleased. "C'mon, speed up- Ken's going to kill us."  
  
"Maybe he'll just kiss us," Miyako suggested slyly.  
  
Daisuke's smile turns dreamy. "Mmm . . . Ken-kisses."  
  
"The best kind!" Miyako agrees enthusiastically.  
  
"Hey!" Daisuke looks insulted.  
  
"Tied with Daisuke-kisses, of course," she tells him, laughing.  
  
"And Miyako-kisses," he adds, nuzzling the back of her neck slightly. Miyako giggles. Between these two and Ken exists the strangest of relationships, but it has become something truly wonderful. If it is not "love" as others define it, at least it is something. At least it is worthwhile.  
  
Sometimes, Miyako has wished that she would be able to figure out a way to marry both Daisuke and Ken. In a way, though, she already has, as surely as they have married each other.  
  
Marriage is not a license or a priest's blessing. It is a state of mind.  
  
Then the church looms in front of them, and the bride and best man dismount and rush inside, still leading the horse, which gives the flower arrangements a thoughtful look, wearing an expression that begs the question "can I consume it without dying?"  
  
And at the altar, Ken's fingers are trapped in the cat's cradle and he is laughing. Miyako and Daisuke both light up at the sound.  
  
The horse eats one of the roses. None of the three who matter cares.  
* ende *  
. : ménage à trios? c'est belle! : . 


End file.
